


Conflict

by we_work_hard



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Adultery, M/M, Masturbation, Mention of Christianity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:30:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/we_work_hard/pseuds/we_work_hard
Summary: Shane's thankful to be back home and safe after his crash-landing in the helicopter, but someone's still worried about him...(This isn't explicit yet, but I'm hoping...)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shane/AJ are my FAVES, and I've wanted to write current-day versions for a while - mainly inspired by anons with llowkeys, and the frickin' fantastic other Shane/AJ fic writers on here (and Tumblr). You are doing Good Things. 
> 
> (P.S. stylescoalition has already written a wonderful 'copter crash fic, and it's awesome, and anyone who hasn't read it should read it right now. Because it's SO GOOD.)

Conflict

_‘jus had to get in a helicopter didn’t u’_

Shane got the text at around 11, while snuggled up behind his wife in front of the TV, safe. After his ‘adventure’ in the helicopter today, she’d been terrified, angry, but – finally – relieved that he came home in one piece to her and the boys. He’d spent the last few hours alternately hugging and being hugged by his family, before getting the boys to calm down and sleep. She’d wanted to be close to him ever since then, tucked under his arm with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. He’d squeezed her tight and silently thanked God it hadn’t been more serious. He felt so, so stupid.

And talking of stupid, seems like _AJ_ had heard about the helicopter’s crash-landing now too, and had decided to stick on ‘angry’.

But then, AJ was always angry now.

Shane can’t stop himself from thumbing in, _‘Who is this? I don’t recognise the number’._

That was pissy, but AJ makes him pissy. Stupid, hard-headed idiot man, getting in touch now just to piss him off. Shane’s not allowed to talk to him, even _look_ at him, and AJ texts him tonight?

“Honey, you’re tensing up – you okay? Thinking about it? You’re _not_ okay, are you?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine – don’t worry. Just, messages from work.”

“Now?! They can’t leave you alone for one night – after what happened today? I’m calling your stupid stubborn father–”

“No! Just, calm down – I need... I need some calm tonight. I don’t want to think. Please.”

She sighs and searches his face for the truth of that, and finds it. It settles her again. She doesn’t pick up on the kind of thinking he actually wants to avoid. Such as, thinking about the stupid man who’s blowing up his phone.  

‘ _u kno full well who this is, don’t be a prick shane_.’

Aha. _Shane’s_ the prick. Right.   

‘ _Ah – AJ, right? The last time we talked you told me to put you out of my head – I did. Now, go away and leave me alone with my wife. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Me with my wife, playing happy families? I am. So, go back to being sullen and silent – you’re so good at that. Leave me alone, like I’ve left you alone_.’

He’s tensing up again, and she can feel it. So he strokes her hair, tucked under his chin. Always pretending, always hiding how he feels...

When the phone vibrates again, so fast, he knows AJ’s pissed.

‘ _oh, ur wife and family huh – family man now. Maybe u shld have thought abt them and the people u’d be leaving behind when u got into that crappy helicopter_ ’

‘ _And what is that to you, how I travel, or my safety? Shouldn’t you be spending time with YOUR family, Allen? Instead of worrying about me?_ ’

‘ _don’t call me allen’_

‘ _Fuck you, Allen.’_

‘ _fuck u shane u selfish ass’_

“Do you want to go to bed, sweetheart? Maybe you should get some sleep, turn off the phone?”

It starts ringing, “P1” flashing on the screen. He rejects the call and turns the phone off.

“Sounds like a good idea, let’s go up.”

He can’t avoid this forever. But maybe he can try for a month or so. That’s about how long AJ’s been avoiding him.

 

*****

 

**_Two and a half months ago, on a Tuesday after taping..._ **

  

"I mean, it's funny, but it's getting kinda weird."

"Yeah... yeah, I guess it  _is_  kinda weird…" Shane trails off.

He’s debriefing with Daniel backstage in his office for the night – the corner of a vending machine room, just because it had a desk in it – and they're talking about AJ Styles. Or, more accurately, Shane and AJ Styles, and the way they’ve been interacting since Wrestlemania. He didn't think anyone had picked up on it. _Shit._

"Because, y'know, I get it, Shane. You guys are just goofing around. But, sometimes…”

Shane holds his breath.

“…I think he's taking it too far, like… is he flirting with you? It's  _weird_ ," Daniel widens his eyes in mock concern.

 _AJ_ flirting? Flirting with  _him_? Shane lets his breath out and feels his cheeks heat up in relief that he's not the one being accused of flirting. Then he feels guilty. Then he goes back to feeling relieved again. Okay, back to a little bit of guilty. He needs to throw Daniel completely off the scent that he might pick up any second, even though there isn’t a scent to pick up. No way, nothing. Not from him.

"Well, Daniel, it's just ribbing; we all do it. And you may have noticed this – we’re both married. To women. I think you're trying to stir something because you're bored."

"But, Shane–"

"You know how you get, Daniel,” Shane says wearily. Daniel’s got that impish look he gets when he’s looking to wind things up in the locker room. He’s a nice guy, but not the kind you let see your weak spots.

Luckily, it seems he hasn’t noticed Shane’s weak spot. Yet. _Shit, shit, shit._

“Look, don't go around the locker room saying this crap – you're already on the ‘flat-earther’ stuff too much and he's getting crabby about it. Plus, you know he’s… religious."

“Don’t you mean: ‘kind-of a bigot’?”

Shane sighs.

“Did I say that, Daniel?”

“He’s got a reputation.”

“So have you.”

“For what?”

“Being annoying – can you wrap this up; can you do me that kindness?” Shane pinches the skin between his eyes with irritation. But not panic. _Shit._

“I need to look over these scripts again. Off you go. Go away, Dan.”

“Hmm, well,” Daniel gets up to leave, with that same ‘ _I’m going to have to bring this up again, you know_ ’ faux-worry thing he does.

“Stop it, Daniel. Have a good night. Or don’t.”

“Sure thang, sugar-britches,” Daniel gruffs out with a shitty Southern accent.

“You’re very funny,” Shane nods as Daniel finally walks away with a laugh.

_“…Jesus.”_

Shane allows himself to bang his head down on the desk.

It’s happening. Just what he’s been sweating about and losing sleep over.

Daniel will pick up on how defensive he’s being. Then he’ll notice how Shane has started watching AJ walk away whenever they pass in the hall. Then he’ll realise AJ’s just joking during their stilted interactions on camera (and backstage) when it gets ‘weird’, and that when Shane gives him the heart-eyes in response, he’s  _not_  joking.

Oh my God, how did this happen?

“Hey Shane.”

“JESUS.”

“Nah, Shane – just AJ.”

“Oh, right… of course. Yes?”

“Well, I just saw you collapsed on the desk. So, are you okay? You want some water, some ice? You know I’m good for that,” he says with a grin.

“There’s no Producer telling you to bring me ice now, AJ.”

“Uh, well, a Producer didn’t tell me to bring you ice earlier, either.”

AJ blushes and looks down at his feet. Uh-oh: danger. More weirdness imminent – is he making AJ feel uncomfortable? His poor straight co-worker AJ? Is Shane staring up at him too long? Oh God, he is.

“I- I’m fine, AJ – great! Just tired. Thank you, though. I appreciate that. Yes.” AJ finally looks back up and swallows, seems to roll his eyes at himself. Keep talking, Shane – keep talking.

“So, uh, AJ – you’re off to the hotel tonight, or driving through?”

“Hotel. Yeah. But driving through tomorrow… You?”

“Huh?”

“You drivin’ or stayin’?”

“Driving, back to Stanford.”

“Oh! Right,” he nods and looks at Shane for a while. Then realises Shane isn’t talking.

“Well, I guess I’m keepin’ ya...” he frowns.

Shane’s chest gets tight – what has Shane said, what’s wrong, what’s he done? Did AJ want him to stay behind longer, so he could tell him to cut out the mooning over him, all the hero-worship?

It  _is_ hero-worship he’s feeling towards AJ… right?

“Will we see ya next week, Shane?”

“I think so – should be around for rehearsal.”

“Okay. Cool. I’ll, uh, leave you to it.”

He knocks his knuckles against the wood of the desk twice, then turns to walk away. Finally. Shane lets out another breath he didn’t realise he was holding and tries to pull himself together. Maybe he needs therapy – would six weeks of intense psychoanalysis work with his schedule?

“Oh, Shane?”

Fuck.

“Yes, AJ?”

He’s stopped in the doorway, and he’s smirking.

“I got you that ice because you were looking so overheated. Talkin’ to me on that show gets you all heated up and nervous, don’t it?’

Shane’s mouth goes dry. AJ’s eyes are sparkling with that playful look he’s been giving him since they started working together on the Wrestlemania angle. He can’t talk – does AJ _know_?

“It’s tough keeping up with The Phenomenal One, ain’t it?” Then he does the AJ Styles pose with his arms out as he walks out of the door, laughing to himself, just like he had in the ring the taping after their match on April 2nd.

Shane swallows and starts to cough, undoing another button on his shirt. He’s sweating again, heart thudding fast in his chest.

It’s not hero-worship. Shane wants him.

“ _Oh,_ _shit._ ”

 

*****

 

Shane can’t sleep. She’s sleeping, but since they got into bed, he’s been staring at the ceiling and regretting not taking the call from P1. AJ. Allen.

AJ might not want him anymore, but Shane still wants him. So badly. He only had AJ underneath him in a bed twice, but he wants him again. All of him. Even if he’s always angry.

The phone goes off when Shane turns it back on, quietly praying the noise won’t wake her.  

Three messages.

‘ _i was worried abt u_ ’

‘ _i miss u shane_ ’

‘ _forget it – delete these msgs_ ’

Maybe AJ’s getting past angry. But neither of them are anywhere near relief.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In part one, we found out AJ Styles and Shane McMahon had started some type of relationship, but AJ's running away from it. Here we get a bit more about how it started, and etc...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a slow build, while I attempt to write plot/their history and not just smut - please do bear with me!
> 
> (Btw, I love smut, and I won't be able to resist writing smut for these two soon...)

**Conflict: Part Two**

 

“Your back really _is_ sensitive isn't it?” 

The weekend in June. Shane had made the most of finally having the freedom to touch AJ the way he’d wanted to for so long, rubbing across the curved lower back with an open hand and making the tanned skin crease up.

“Hurt when I do this?”  
  
“Hmm. Not in a bad way.”  
  
Shane had enjoyed the soft warm skin under his fingers, the back muscles he’d only ever felt tensed-up now relaxed and pliable. He’d carefully studied the little scars and freckles across AJ’s upper-back while they lay on the bed together, the damage from his time in the ring and too much time in the sun.

“You feel... really good.”

“Ha, you dope,” AJ had laughed down into the comforter.

“Shut up. You feel strong, but... you’re good to grip onto...”

“You think I’m gettin’ soft, McMahon?” AJ had smiled, flipping back to his side to face Shane, pushing the hair out of his eyes.

Shane had looked at AJ’s muscular body appreciatively, eyes snagging on one part. “Sure doesn’t look like it...”  
  
“I ain’t talkin’ about that,” AJ had laughed while shoving him. “And that right there is _your_ fault, isn’t it?” AJ’d said, loosely framing it with a hand and smiling playfully.

“Oh really? So I guess it’s up to me to make it all better, huh?”

Murmurs to each other on a bed in the afternoon; the first time. The things AJ and Shane had whispered when they were alone together, and honest.

_'delete this number + don't come near me unless its for work'_

Now it’s very different.

AJ would kill him if he knew that Shane hasn't deleted any of their texts. None. From the latest angry messages, back to the early jokes, they're the proof Shane scrolls up through every time AJ denies him, pushes him further out of his life, pretends it didn't happen, blanks him in the corridors.   
  
_'my wife thinks im screwing around, stop calling'_  
  
'u shld understand – why don’t u get it'  
  
'will u kiss me again'   
  
'cant stop thinking abt what we did'  
  
'we'll be there @ 3. Kids won't shut up'  
  
"i'll sue ur pants off bossman - how abt that?!"  
  
'u bruised me up with that punch - look’  
  
'mainly white with blue + red'  
  
'how's the eye doin? sure can take a whoopin, boy’  
  
'ready to have ur ass kicked tonight, mcmahon??'  
  
'u just better watch ur mouth, or I'll shut it for ya ;D'  
  
The record of them hurts, but it’s his proof, and it’s precious. Shane will _always_ keep it. 

*

It’s the Tuesday after Shane’s little accident with the helicopter, and he’s walking around backstage looking for AJ. But all he’s finding so far is snark, hugs, repeated jokes about ‘bumps’, but no short angry Southern men who hate his guts. His luck is pretty terrible right now.

“There he is – the only man who’d take a bump out of a helicopter and walk away!”

“Thanks Xavier, that’s... very touching.”

Shane spots AJ walking towards them with his eyes on his phone, still in his hoodie and jeans, and his chest gets tight at the sight of him. Probably busy ignoring text messages from people. People he’d whispered “I love you” to in the spare room of a holiday home in Martha’s Vineyard, tricking them into believing him and loving him back. Y’know, people like that. Xavier yells him over.

“Hey, AJ! Good job your ‘marriage’ with Shane is done now, huh – he made a _helicopter_ put him over.”

AJ flicks his eyes to Shane in panic and seems to realise he’s trapped into talking to him, and sighs. Plus, Shane notices his shoulders tense up at the word ‘marriage’ being used for their Wrestlemania programme, which pisses him off even further.

“Uh, good to see you’re still with us, Shane,” AJ says robotically, nodding and dropping his hands by his sides awkwardly, tapping his phone against his thigh.

Shane’s really convinced that AJ’s glad to see him here today. Totally.  

And Xavier is definitely convinced, seeing how big his eyes have gotten at how awkward the atmosphere suddenly is. So, yet again, it’s up to Shane to get the ‘ _We’re Good Co-Workers, And It’s Not Weird That We Stopped Talking After Our Families Went Away For The Weekend Together. And, Just So You Know, We Didn’t Have Sex_ ’ thing over to the people around them. They’re all paying closer and closer attention to their behaviour around each other as the weeks go on, but AJ doesn’t seem to realise that.

“Ah, AJ – glad I caught you; we have an angle to thrash out with Creative. Come with me, please... ”

“I’m wanted elsewhere, Shane...” AJ blurts out.

Xavier’s eyes get even bigger at a wrestler saying ‘later’ to a McMahon.

Not for the first time, Shane’s irked at how stupid AJ can be when he’s running from something. 

“You’re wanted by me. Right now.”

AJ looks back at him angrily. For a middle-aged man, he can look so petulant.

“Catch you _later_ , AJ?” Xavier says with a certain emphasis, like: ‘ _Go with him – run if you have to – what’s wrong with you_ ’.

Shane’s not going to help AJ out of coming across like a prick – not this time. He just waits him out, silent.

“Uh...sure...I guess I have to do what the _boss_ says, don’t I?”

That’s meant to hurt him, and it does. It hurts to pull rank on AJ like this, Shane not being the kind of person to do that. He’d always wanted AJ to feel like his equal, because he is. But, here they are.

“That’s right; you _do_ have to do what I say, don’t you?” He can be mean, too. “Catch you later, Xavier. Come with me, AJ.”

It was cheap, but Shane can’t help feeling a little smug about having the upper hand over AJ for once. This was his only option... bar scooping AJ up over his shoulders and locking him in his car to abscond with him. He’s been tempted.

“You don’t _ever_ say ‘no’ to me in front of people, how stupid can you be?” Shane hisses as they walk down the corridor side by side, stiffly checking out who might be listening. 

“You didn’t used to order me around, did you?” AJ hisses back. “Not-like-the-rest-of-your-family, my ass-”

“And what choice do you leave me? Keep your mouth shut until we get to my office.” 

“Don’t tell me to shut- you have an office here?”

“No.”

When they come to a storage cupboard, Shane checks the door and quickly hustles AJ inside with him, looking back to make sure no one has seen them before he shuts them in.

It’s stale and dark inside, but he doesn’t want to turn the light on. He listens to AJ’s breathing, feeling it near his chest. He’s so short for a wrestler, Shane remembers with a little affectionate pang. He wants to kick himself for being so weak around this man. 

“We’re not turning the light on?” AJ says quietly after a few beats, his voice sounding strained and husky.

“No. We’re going to talk. Why did you bother getting in touch the other night? Felt like messing with my head again?”

“Messing with _your_ -” AJ stops and takes a few breaths, gathering himself.

“Okay. Okay, I was...scared. I’m not a complete asshole, Shane.” he adds quietly.

“You could have fooled me.”

“Well, what about you, huh?”

“What about me?”

“You didn’t pick up your phone...”

“You never pick up yours – I thought we weren’t calling each other anymore.”

“Look, can’t we just... why can’t we go back to before? Before everything got... messed up...”

“Messed up?”

“Yeah, messed up – what would _you_ call this?!”

“You _know_ what I call this-”

“Shane-”

“Messed up is you pretending we can go back from... what we did. Friends don’t sleep together behind their wife’s backs,” Shane says, incredulous. “A _friend_ wouldn’t have flirted with me, and pushed at me – for months and months, mind you – until I couldn’t think of anything else. _You_ did that. Why are you pretending you’re innocent? Why are you pretending this doesn’t mean anything to you? Don’t you remember-”

“ _You_ pushed me into this!” Shane’s pleading doesn’t work, AJ retreating into the self-righteous anger Shane’s getting so used to from him now. So different to the little in-jokes, the teasing, the smiles he used to give him. As soon as Shane acknowledged what was actually happening between them and had followed his lead, AJ had started to get angry. 

“I’ve never even _looked_ at a man before now – you, though... I bet you’d been biding your time, picking out one who was kind to you, who you could manipulate into your bed. Or, sorry, _one_ of your beds. I’ve heard about you McMahons and wrestlers-”

“How dare you say that shit to me-”

“I’m not lettin’ you ruin my family, my faith – I’m a _good_ man. ‘Least I was before you. I don’t need this-”

AJ’s back hits the wall, and Shane crowds into him.

“You’re not innocent,” Shane says quietly to AJ in the dark. “Pretending now you didn’t know what you were doing then – what bullshit. I have _never_ wanted anyone else like this. I’d have never cheated on my wife, my children, if it wasn’t for you. How dare you.”

AJ falls quiet, and Shane can feel his eyes on him, feel his breath coming faster.

“You bring me in here to make me feel bad, Shane? Because I feel bad _all the time_.”

“AJ,” Shane has to say the right thing now he has the other man in a position where he might listen – he _has_ to make him listen. “I don’t want you to feel bad – I just want you to be happy, so happy. You’re _not_ happy, I know it. Look, this happened – you can’t run; it’s not working for either of us.”

Shane reaches forward in the dark to find AJ’s face, stroking his jaw the way he’s only been permitted to a few times before. It makes his chest untighten by a few notches when AJ doesn’t flinch away, but pushes into it, letting out a breath.

“I can hear you, AJ. Don’t pretend. It’s okay.”

He can feel the shuddering breath that AJ lets out this time, then the shift in the air when AJ’s hand raises to his hair, pulling Shane’s head down towards him. There’s a little flutter over his mouth before AJ makes a little noise in his throat and connects their lips again.

AJ’s mouth. It’s rough, soft, and full – kissing AJ is like nothing else; he’d leave his family, his career, his name, everything to be able to kiss him like this. Shane knows AJ has a certain idea of himself, the ‘good man’ he’s built up over the years. But it’s not all of him – he’s shown Shane the rest.  
  
Shane pulls away to whisper, “Meet me at the hotel after the show”.  
  
He can feel AJ shaking his head as soon as he starts talking. “No, I'm not doing that-”

Shane palms at the wall for the light, finds it and flicks it on – they blink at the sudden brightness, and how close they’re standing.  
  
_“Just_ , talk to me. I'll – I'll keep the door to the bedroom closed, and I'll stand ten feet away from you at all times, and, you can even keep my hands tied behind my back if it’ll make you comfortable – how about that?”  
  
AJ softly quirks his eyebrow at the hand-tying part – it's a weak echo of the flirting and pushing at each other they used to do, but it's there. Shane’s heart beats quicker in sudden hope. Maybe, maybe.  
  
“Sounds like your suite's a lot bigger than mine.”  
  
“Don't avoid what I'm asking you.”  
  
AJ looks away and bites at his lower lip, messing with his hair.   
  
“Come to my room, Allen.”  
  
_“Please_ , don't call me Allen. Can't bear that,” he whispers under his breath.

‘Allen’ is who AJ is when they’ve been intimate together. Allen is quietly passionate, and he accepts Shane’s kisses with more of his own. Allen pulls Shane close, and he likes having his bottom lip bitten and pulled at with teeth. He enjoys having his hair tugged at when he’s hard, but not before, and to have his sides squeezed tightly, but his back touched softly, carefully. Shane loves Allen, but he loves AJ just as much.   

He has to talk fast.

“You go now, talk to whoever you need to, but I'll see you later – I'll text you the room number. Keep your phone on for me.”  
  
“Look, I...” AJ struggles with his words, and Shane silently wills him not to run away this time. AJ finally nods.  
  
As he breaks eye contact to leave, Shane feels like he’s falling, the empty space he often feels in his chest expanding.

“AJ,” he says in panic.  
  
“Hmm?”   
  
“Come to my room tonight. Just, come to me.”  
  
AJ looks at him and smiles weakly in agreement to meet him later. But when he holds Shane's eyes for a few seconds longer before walking away, they both know he won’t. 

Those whispers, the rough beard scratching across his face, shining eyes in the afternoon light. If only AJ would want Allen to be happy as much as Shane does.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AJ and Shane struggle with their feelings for each other, before and after Wrestlemania 33 (This starts up again the night after they’ve had their chat in the storeroom backstage at SmackDown during the last chapter. Then it goes back in time a bit to see how they got where they are...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a little smutty in this chapter...

Shane’s been waiting for AJ for three and a half hours now. He’s lying on the hotel bed in the dark, fully clothed, shoes still on, drumming his stomach with his fingers. No doubt AJ’s going to go back to completely stonewalling him again. He reaches for his phone.

‘ _You’re not coming_ ’

He doesn’t expect a response. AJ opening up to him again today was just a fluke, another little bit of hope to torment him. Physical proximity is the key to getting through to AJ, always has been – something about being able to hear Shane’s voice makes him listen. Touches make his shoulders relax, eye contact makes the truth come out. As soon as they’re physically apart again, the anger in AJ comes back. Suddenly, AJ thinks Shane’s playing a game with him – Shane wants to ruin his life; AJ’s never been interested in a man because he’s not like that; he was confused; he needs to reconnect with his church. All the things that fall away when Shane touches him.

Shane’s phone vibrates.

‘ _I cant_ ’

Shane sits up on the bed, holding the phone in front of him. AJ’s thinking about it in the dark, too. What can he message back; what can he say that won’t make AJ shut down? He needs AJ here in front of him, but this is the chance he’s been given.

As he panics, his phone vibrates in his hands again, lighting up the dark room with a glow.

‘ _u don’t just want to talk_ ’

He’s right. Shane quickly messages back.

‘ _No?_ ’

‘ _nope. I know u_ ’

Shane pulls himself to the edge of the bed and turns the lamp on, dropping the phone for a moment to wipe his clammy hands up and down on his pants – this is a big thing AJ’s doing right now, letting him back in. Shane can’t help the little thrill that goes through him at AJ allowing this type of communication. He thinks, and starts to type in…

‘ _What do you think I want to do?_ ’

Will AJ respond to that? Please, please let AJ respond to that and not get mad, Shane thinks, his leg bouncing up and down.

‘ _think u want to kiss me again_.  _\+ more_ ’

Shane sits up straight, his stomach twisting with nerves and excitement.

‘ _I think I do… do you want me to?_ ’ he thumbs in. That might be too far, but please let it not be, please let AJ respond, even if it’s just to tell him to stop.

‘ _perhaps_ ’ is what his phone lights up with.

Shane’s head drops into his hands, the phone pressing against his face. AJ’s in the same building, in a room here somewhere, and he maybe wants Shane to kiss him again. And more. Suddenly, Shane feels like the luckiest man in the world, being told ‘perhaps’.

‘ _Then come and be with me_ ’

He drops the phone again and folds his hands together, pushing them against his face, like he’s praying. Maybe he  _is_  praying. When the response comes, he’s confused at first.

‘ _remember the 1st time_ ’

AJ wants to reminisce… Shane can do that – he likes thinking about that day. Not the arguments before or after, but the complete honesty between them in the middle. Being allowed to touch the other man the way he’d wanted to for so long; to love him.  

AJ texts again, straight away: ‘ _i_   _was so scared but so happy_ ’

That makes Shane smile.

‘ _I didn’t think you’d let me near you, I thought I’d messed it all up_ ’

‘ _you didn’t. I feel so bad all the time shane’_

‘ _You felt good when you were with me?_ ’

AJ keeps him waiting a minute or so, but it feels like longer.

‘ _yes_ ’

‘ _So be with me. Not tonight, if you’re not ready. Just don’t push me away anymore. Think about it? Promise me you will?_ ’

Shane’s stomach twists while he waits, hoping AJ will reply.

‘ _ok_ ’

Thank goodness. Shane falls back onto the bed, holding the phone to his chest and letting out a relieved laugh. He’s got a chance; AJ’s giving him another ‘perhaps’. His phone buzzes again.

‘ _so… u don’t want to see me 2nite?_ ’

Shane laughs in delight at the flirting starting again. He never thought it would.

‘ _Nope. I’d rather sleep ;D_ ’

“ _!!!_ ”

“ _Think about me tonight?_ ”

Another pause to make Shane worry, the seconds ticking by.

‘ _i will_ ’

And a beat later:

‘ _i missed us talking shane_ ’

‘ _And kissing?_ ’

‘ _maybe that too_ ’

‘ _And the rest?_ ’

‘ _don’t push your luck. Good night shane_ ’

‘ _Goodnight AJ. I hope you’re wearing those ugly pants you like to wear to sleep in_ ’

He won’t respond to that.

‘ _wld send u a pic but i don’t want u getting too excited’_

Holy crap, he did.

‘ _You know me so well’_

‘ _stop keepin me awake dang it’_

‘ _You’re keeping *me* awake!’_

Another pause, and Shane thinks that might be it for the night.

‘ _u_   _dont need any beauty sleep u handsome man’_

There is no way Shane is going to be able to sleep now, he’s smiling so hard.

‘ _i shldnt have said that - goodnight shane’_

‘ _Sweet dreams, you sweet man_ ’

‘ _quit it_ ’

And a moment later…

‘ _xx_ ’

Shane gets up to turn the light out again, grinning in happiness and relief. He should text his wife to say goodnight, he should. But he forces the thought out of his head along with the guilt.

AJ’s under the same roof as him, and he’s thinking about him. For now, it’s enough.  

***

Shane’s getting to know him. They’re building to their Wrestlemania match months in advance; specific spots to be worked out nearer to the big day, but right now they’re working on their programme by getting comfortable with each other in the ring, talking things out. AJ’s a hard-worker, patient, and Shane enjoys his sense of humour. He likes feeling out AJ’s moves in the ring, sitting on the mat to talk afterwards.

They’re taking another break, gulping down water and quietly talking to each other while others make use of the rings and equipment around them. He trusts AJ, tells him things he probably shouldn’t.

“We don’t get on, actually.”

“ _Really_?”

“Really.”

“How come?”

“He… has a lot of ideas I don’t agree with.”

“Like, maybe, booking himself to main-event WrestleMania two years in a row, instead of giving opportunities to other people…”

“Uh, yeah, maybe something like that.”

Shane looks down, talking quietly, quicker than usual. AJ watches him and blinks softly, not rushing him.

“I don’t know,” Shane shrugs. “I don’t think much of his work. And I  _know_  I’ve got no right, I know that. I don’t know what it takes to make it in this business as a wrestler, from the bottom, of course I don’t.” AJ swiftly shakes his head and frowns, which Shane shakes off.

“But… that’s just how I feel. No matter how good he is to Steph, I don’t think much of him; never have. I know he doesn’t think much of me, either.”

There’s a companionable silence while AJ looks out over to the training going on in other parts of the centre, seeing no one can hear them. He looks down to scratch at the mat while he talks, hushed, deciding to trade a secret for Shane’s. 

“I don’t like John.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Yeah,” he says quietly, like a kid confessing a wrong-doing. “Don’t like ‘im.”   

“I thought he was giving you ‘ _the matches of your career_ ’…” Shane says, dropping in a quote he’s heard from AJ in numerous interviews.

“Well… the programme went great, don’t get me wrong. And it got me to where I needed to be; I’m grateful for that-”

“No, no, I get it – go on.”

“But…I dunno… him callin’ every match? I worked all over the  _world_ before coming here, against some of the best guys around. And, yeah, I know he has, too; I  _get_  it. But I have things I can bring to the table. Why’d we always have to work the same style?”

“You mean… you  _don’t_ think every match should have at least three AAs in it?”

“Ha!” AJ looks up to catch Shane’s eye in surprise, relieved Shane gets it. They raise their eyebrows at each other and grin, happy to be sharing the secret. “No, I  _don’t_! Plus, do I  _have_  to be carried around the ring on the guy’s shoulders at every house show? I carry my kids around like that – do I look like a kid?”

“Well… you kind of do.”

“Shut up, I ain’t that short.”

Shane laughs. “It’s a cute spot, though – the folks in the crowd sure love it.”

“Cute?! Me being carried around like a little baby is cute to you?”

“Well – to everyone! It looks sweet!”

“Oh, cute  _and_ sweet, now?! I’m a grown-ass man, Shane – don’t you forget that,” AJ advises with a rougher voice.

“Hmm…” Shane looks him over, appraisingly. ”I think you’ve got a bit more growing to do.”

AJ thumps Shane’s arm indignantly and flashes another grin.

“Whatever, man.”

They should be getting back up to work on their sets; get used to each other’s rhythm, build muscle-memory for the other’s movement. But Shane doesn’t want to get up yet. Doesn’t seem like AJ’s in a hurry to move, either. They catch each other’s eyes again and smile.

“I, uh, won’t hurt you in there, if I can help it,” AJ says hesitantly, gesturing to the ring.

“I know.”

AJ’s looking away and biting at his bottom lip – Shane’s noticed him doing that a lot. Little mannerisms you get to know when you’re working with someone so closely like this. The way AJ smoothes his hair down before he jams his cap on his head. How he walks with his back, really, really straight, as if he can’t bear to lose any inches to the taller people around him. The way he won’t curse, but thinks “motherfreaker” or “freaking” are acceptable alternatives. How much he loves his family. It’s rare Shane feels genuine fondness towards people he works with, the way he’s starting to feel towards AJ.

“Where’s this coming from – think I can’t take what you’ve got?”

AJ softly smiles at Shane’s attempt to move the tone back to teasing, but he’s serious. He takes a deep breath before explaining.

“I remember how you looked at Survivor Series; that bump you took. That was… really bad. This is a big thing for you to do, getting back in the ring again after that. I appreciate it. I really do.”

“You don’t have to appreciate anything – I’m happy to do this. Thank  _you_ for working with me. This has been… one of the easiest experiences I’ve had putting a programme together, so far, really.” Shane’s noticed that away from other people, and the easy confidence (almost arrogance) he adopts in groups, AJ doesn’t ever acknowledge compliments. He changes the subject, or starts rubbing his arms, or messing with his hair, scrunching his face up. Which is what he’s doing now.

“Anyway, I’ve taken bigger bumps than that one.”

“You were younger then, Shane.  _Much_ younger.”

“Hey, now! Watch it.”

“Old man now – silver fox.” AJ laughs.

“Shut up. But, thank you for calling me a  _fox_ – I appreciate that. You’ve got taste, clearly.”

“Well, you pay my bills.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then, I won’t think you’re a fox anymore,” AJ stretches his arms up over his head, dropping them to huff out, “ _Anyway_ , you think  _Baron_  is a ‘stud’, apparently, so…”

“I told you I don’t remember saying that – you’re making that up.”

“You  _said_ it; I heard ya, Shane – you said it on the aftershow, you know ya did,” AJ explains again patiently, his accent getting thicker. “You said he’s a stud. You’ve never called  _me_  a stud. You know I’m still upset about that…”

“Okay, you’re a stud.”

“Thank you,” AJ nods, smirking and taking another gulp of his water.

Shane leans back and lies down on the mat, sweaty back sticking to the plastic. He can feel the heat and sweat coming off of AJ, sitting right next to him in this training gear – loose shorts, T-shirt, and cap. Shane’s used to working out and hanging out with the boys, but he’s always felt the need to impress them, not to be a stuffy office guy. He’s relaxed now, though.

“I heard you yelling at Roman afterwards that night, backstage.”

He has hazy memories of AJ’s gruff voice shouting, amongst all the other yelling voices – remembers seeing him pushing and shoving.

“It wasn’t his fault, you know. These things happen.”

“I know, but… I wouldn’t have let that happen. You’re too easy-going with that stuff, Shane – you have to look after yourself.”

“Stop – I’m fine.”

“Okay, okay; I’ll lay off, I’m not your wife.” AJ scrunches his face up again, thinking. “Your kids looked so strong about it, though;  _amazing_ kids.”

“Yeah, really amazing.” Shane smiles in fondness and pride for his children, and AJ smiles too in recognition of the feeling. “They know the business; they’ve pretty much grown up in it, like I did. I’ve tried to keep them away from it, to a degree, but… they’re McMahons. It’s always going to be a part of their lives.’

AJ’s lifted his shirt up to scratch his side where his tattoos are. Shane counts them out of the corner of his eye, noting the slightly mismatched one for his daughter, disappearing into the crease of his skin by his hip.

“I’ve never really been hurt in the ring like that.”

“No?”

“No, I’ve  _never_  been hurt like that; been lucky.”  
  
Shane takes in a breath and wonders if he should say it; they’ve never talked about it.  

“I know your lower back’s messed up.”  
  
AJ tenses up beside him. Shane knows – he’s not stupid. The pain is more than AJ’s talked about, and it’s not something a little yoga or therapy can fix.   
  
“I can tell; it’s okay. I’ve been around you guys my whole life. The way you hold yourself… It hurts, doesn’t it?”  
  
AJ flicks his eyes to Shane and away, rubbing and then tapping his own arm – another quirk Shane’s noticed.

“Aches all the time,” he murmurs, waiting for Shane’s response. Shane’s never seen him with that look on his face – vulnerable. No jokes, no easy arrogance, no good ol’ boy AJ. Shane lifts his hand to touch his back, comfort him, but drops it again.   
  
“Well… I’ll treat you gentle, then.”   
  
"Ha – you think I can’t take it hard anymore, bossman?’ AJ turns to him with a flash of teeth, eyes crinkling at the corners.  
  
"Hmmph! Well, if  _hard_  is how you want it, Mr Jones, then hard is what I’ll give you.”  
  
This joking back and forth is what AJ’s comfortable with – Shane’s used to him yelling faux-threats and innuendo like this to him backstage, keeping things light and teasing. It still gives Shane a start sometimes when it gets particularly near the knuckle, though…

AJ shoots Shane a little sly glance of warmth and trust, quirking another smile.   
  
“We’re gonna tear this up together, McMahon.”  
  
“We sure are.”

AJ leans in closer over Shane with a conspiratory look. Shane automatically wants to shift away, but he holds himself still on the mat, pulse speeding up and adrenalin going. His body must be used to going into fight mode when AJ’s close, the roughness of their training and drills tricking him.  
  
“Trips who, right?” AJ whispers down with another of his soft smiles, moving back again.

Shane lets out a breath, pulse starting to slow back to normal speed.   
  
“Now, don’t you go saying that around the locker room – you’ll get me all amped-up, and I need to concentrate on being gentle with you in the ring, don’t I?”  
  
“Ah, screw you, man.”

Shane stretches and groans, sitting up. “I guess we better get back to it…”

“Bring your worst – I’ll take it  _all_ , Shane.” AJ says with a grin, then flushes a little at his own talk and falters.

Wrestlers are a strange breed, that’s for sure - AJ’s a good one though, Shane smiles to himself. He pulls himself up to his feet and offers his hand to his friend.  

**

AJ’s beating Shane up backstage tonight, it’s all in place. They’ve run through how many hits AJ’s going to get in, how Shane’s going to protect his head and face against the blows, exactly when his head is going to go through the car window, and how hard he should be pushed.

Shane’s used to being pulled and pushed around by AJ during the regular training they’ve been doing, but this is completely different – more opportunities for it to go wrong. There’s been a strange excitement building in Shane’s gut all day, a nervous wait to see if they can pull it off together.

“You ready for this, Shane? I’m gonna give you  _everything_  I’ve got, so you just be ready to take it, boy. Because I’m comin’ for you  _hard_ ,” is the trash-talk AJ’s been throwing at him today. At catering, walking past him in the corridor, Shane popping his head in to make-up.

“Just because I’m sittin’ here gettin’ all prettied up for later, doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass, so don’t you look at me that way, McMahon.”

“Okay, tough guy.”

“You best  _know_  I’m a tough guy.”

“Right – less blush though, Amanda; AJ’s looking flushed already.”

“ _You’ll_ be lookin’ plenty flushed later, tell you that,” AJ mutters, looking back down at his phone and letting the make-up department do their work.

The ‘fight’, when it happens, is rough, and Shane’s eye starts to swell and bruise from one of the fists he didn’t block. In rehearsal, each slow-motion run through of their moves had ended with AJ patting Shane’s shoulder with a deep ‘That’s good’ or ‘That’s right’. During the actual scene, AJ has to leave Shane on the floor in a heap, getting in a few last kicks before walking away. From the ground, he can see AJ’s eyes look worried when he spots the blood he’s left. He can also see that AJ’s belt has popped open during the struggle. They got caught up and went too far.    

Afterwards, it feels like it had been real. The adrenalin Shane’s body has started to produce too much of whenever AJ is around rushes through him for hours that night, him not being able to stop lines of AJ’s growled dialogue slipping back into his thoughts.

Memories of what him and AJ had said afterwards keep playing back in his head as well…

“You okay, Shane?! Boy, look at that welt – I’m sorry, man!” AJ reaches to hold Shane’s head in his hands after the broadcast, trying to turn it back and forth for a better look.

“It’s nothing,” Shane says, letting AJ hold his head to see. “It looked  _great_  on camera – have you seen it yet?”  

“Nah, just… still trying to calm down,” AJ lets Shane go to run his hands through his own hair, pushing out a shuddering breath. He seems antsy, bouncing up and down on his heels, then shaking his arms out.  

“That was  _intense_ , right? I mean, it felt like I was  _really_ puttin’ my hands on ya,” He steps closer into Shane’s body, looking at him as if he wants to start it all over again. Shane can’t help but feel a corresponding urge to square up. Something about being around AJ now makes him feel like this, always slightly on edge.

AJ seems to realise what he’s doing and makes himself step back, but his eyes are still shining, and his mouth is hanging slightly open.

“I feel nuts right now. You sure you’re okay, Shane?”

“Told you, I can take the hard hits; don’t go soft on me.”

“Ha, no chance of that,” AJ says with a rasping chuckle, running his pointed tongue over his lower lip – Shane’s noticed him doing that a lot now, too.

AJ laughs at himself. “Boy, it’s fun beating you up. I’m so pumped, feels like I could run ten miles now, easy.”

Shane feels the same, like he could run or fight all night. Instead, he tries to stop bearing his teeth at AJ, stop smiling so much. Wanting to crowd into him for some reason, put his hands on him in response. He wants to bite into something, hard.

He breathes and tries to sound normal.

“Probably too late for that, huh – better just head back to the hotel and… do what you can with that energy.”

AJ raises an eyebrow at that, and Shane realises what he’s implied.

“I mean – in the hotel gym! Or, whatever. Whatever you… want to do.”

AJ leans in, still breathing heavily, Shane feeling it on his face. Shane can’t stop himself from letting his lips peel back over his teeth, leaning in, too.

“Now that, bossman, is none of your business, is it?”

Shane nods at the wink AJ sends him before walking off. Then he notices members of the backstage crew watching him watch AJ walk away with a big smile. He quickly drops it.    

**

AJ is killing him now.

What Daniel said last week about the flirting was right, but he’s wrong about the motivation behind it – he  _must_  be. AJ doesn’t realise what he’s doing; surely? Their programme is over, Wrestlemania long gone, but they have a  _friendship_  now. Their wives and children get on. AJ and Shane have an easy back and forth; they talk about their families, how it’s going on the road, what they want for the future… but they’ve also kept up with the faux-macho posturing, the innuendo, the ribbing.

But is it ribbing when one person can’t stop themselves from thinking about the other? The inappropriate thoughts that keep crowding in? How many times can a person run to the bathroom to calm down, without their loved ones thinking they’re sick?

Maybe Shane  _is_  sick. Because he’s locked in a bathroom again and panicking.

Xavier Woods and that stupid, stupid cake. He’d passed Shane in the corridor a moment ago, backstage, covered in cake and frosting. Which is fine – Shane doesn’t ask questions; never does.

But AJ walking up to him a moment later with a fingerful of it and offering it to Shane? He couldn’t have just laughed that off and walked away, could he? Of course not.  

“It’s really good McMahon, you should get you some. You  _want_ some… right?” AJ’d taunted smugly, holding his finger in front of Shane’s face.

He’d had that look in his eye that he gets when he’s making these jokes with Shane now, the sparkle that looks like pure joy when Shane plays along. “ _Play this game with me_ ,” his eyes say. But where does he want the game to lead? Since Shane realised what all the adrenalin is down to, why he feels nervous when AJ’s around, he’s started to stop caring where it goes. He just wants to keep AJ looking at him like that. Like they have this secret funny game no one else knows about.   
  
“Hmm… it does look good.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“What if I  _do_ want some of that?”

AJ had made like he was really thinking about it. “Well, now that’s a real shame, isn’t it? Because this right here is  _mine_ ,” he’d said with pretend sadness, shaking his head in mock regret and holding the eye-contact. He’d sighed and slapped his leg with his other hand. “So. What’re we gonna do now, Shane?”   
  
The next moment is what Shane wishes he could rewind and stop. Why Shane’s shut in the bathroom and sweating, waiting for a sexual harassment suit to be brought in here and slid under the cubicle door at any moment.

“I’ve got an idea.”

“Oh yeah?”

He’d grabbed AJ’s thick wrist and quickly swooped his head down over AJ’s hand, lightly closing his teeth down to the middle knuckle of the cream-covered forefinger, dragging the cake and frosting into his mouth.  
  
“Mmm. Thanks AJ. Tastes pretty good.”  
  
_Tastes pretty good._

Shane hits his head against the wall of the cubicle he’s locked himself in, feeling thrilled and sick at the same time. Shane just had AJ’s finger in his mouth. And he’d really, really liked it.

His panic gets worse as he gets more excited about what he’s just done.  _AJ_  flirting, Daniel?! Right. Sexy handsome raspy-voiced straight man AJ flirting with Shane? Yeah, sure. That’s as realistic as… a married straight McMahon suddenly realising he wants a male employee in his bed.

Shane’s losing it, he actually is. Is this stress? Some sort of PTSD after Wrestlemania – is he too old for this? Is that what it is? Why’s he thinking like this?   
  
He loves his wife – he loves women – he’s never looked at a man like that, except… he looked at AJ in the Wrestlemania gear…

A lot. He told himself at the time that he was just trying to figure out if there was underwear underneath, and if it was decent for broadcast, but no. He was looking. Oh shit – even  _then_ , he was looking.   
  
He searches their match up on his phone, watching it on silent, again. Yes, again. How many times has he watched this now? Not enough, not enough. AJ looked so good in those tights, he thinks with growing desperation, so firm but soft, and he felt so warm under Shane’s hands. And he was so  _cocky_ , baiting Shane in front of everyone, the way he’s been doing backstage. What an arrogant and sexy man AJ is, Shane finally fully allows himself to think, mind racing.  
  
It’s like his brain has just switched on after being locked down for way too long, and all the filthy thoughts flood in one by one. Shane  _liked_  him baiting him and grinning that cocky grin; he liked it when AJ called him ‘boy’ and 'kid’. He’d wanted to show him who the 'boy’ really was, though – yeah, fucking show AJ real good. Turn him round into the turnbuckle, pull those stretchy tights right down in front of everyone and bite into AJ’s firm cheeks, huh? Force his face between them and eat him out until AJ’s just a sobbing mess, hanging over the ropes.   
  
Shane grinds the heel of his hand into the crotch of his jeans, and grits his teeth at the feeling. Would AJ like being spanked?, he thinks with desperation. Yes, he would, he would – he’d want Shane to take him over his knee and whale on him. He got stiff when they had that brawl backstage – Shane noticed that; that’s why the belt popped open. AJ had got an erection from roughing Shane up. He’d joked about it, hadn’t he? “ _I sure do love givin’ you a beating, Shane.”_  
  
Fuck – he’s hard in an arena toilet and about to jerk himself off while thinking about that, and he doesn’t care anymore. Shane  _bets_  AJ wanted to push him down to his knees on the concrete and grind that denim-covered dick on Shane’s face, hook one of those thick thumbs into Shane’s mouth to open it up; yes. And Shane would clench his jaw shut against it – but he wants it, AJ knows that, doesn’t he-

He hears a door creak open. He freezes.

“Anybody in here?”

It’s AJ, sounding breathless and tense – probably in here to throw up and scrub his hand clean. Shane quickly lifts his feet up and tries to make himself as small and quiet as possible, snapping back to the present and feeling shame and panic course through him.

He sees the shadow of AJ walking past his cubicle, sees it shift as he checks under each door for feet. He can hear AJ let out a sigh when he can’t see anyone, and quickly lock himself into the cubicle next to him. Shane really, really doesn’t want to be here now, but he’s trapped.

He can hear AJ breathing, and a thud, like he’s hitting his head against the partition wall. He’s upset. He’s upset by what Shane just did.

“ _Oh God… oh God_ …” Shane gently pushes his ear against the cubicle wall to hear him, and it’s almost as though AJ’s whispering directly into his ear. Shane closes his eyes and wishes he could whisper back, apologise for going too far, making him feel bad. He’s been so messed up and selfish – how could he have let this go so far? He takes his hand away from his hardness and bites his lips, hating himself.

“ _Oh my fucking God… oh God… Please forgive me,_ ” AJ whispers.

Forgive him?

Shane hears AJ’s zipper being tugged down roughly, jeans being pulled open, and then a bitten-off moan and shuffling.

“ _Oh God, please forgive me, please forgive me for doin’ this.._.”

AJ’s touching himself, jerking off in the bathroom. Shane feels a flush go through him.

“ _I want it so bad, I just want to be touched all the time, Lord – I can’t bear it anymore, please help me, just let me cum, just let me make myself cum while thinkin’ of it, just once_ _._ ”

Shane wants to rip the doors off their hinges and watch – grab, and suck, and bite – but all he can do is fight to stay still and silent while listening to the other man pleasure himself.

AJ continues to quietly talk himself through his orgasm, using Shane’s name a few times – which is the hottest thing he’ll  _ever_ hear; that deep voice rasping his name. Shane listens to AJ’s breath catch and the groan when he reaches his peak, the shifting and tensing of his body against the partition keeping them apart. He can smell it, too; a faint scent of chlorine, AJ’s arousal. It turns him on even more – he wants it on his fingers.

“ _Oh,_   _fuck_ …” It’s the first time he’s heard AJ curse properly, and it sounds so sinful, but so sorrowful alongside the left-over lust. Shane feels shame to hear it.

AJ’s still breathing so hard against the wall, Shane wonders if he’ll be able to calm himself down. He listens to AJ sniff and swallow a few times, gathering himself – hears him clean himself with tissue paper and zip back up, put himself together again. Washing his hands, the door closing after he leaves.

Shane’s too shocked to finish what he’d started before AJ came in.

 


End file.
